


'Cause My Heart Can't Take a Loss

by JoLau



Category: Sister Claire (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Grieving, Mourning, newest comic update still has me reeling y'all, so I wrote this at 12AM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoLau/pseuds/JoLau
Summary: Marie doesn't think the hurting will ever stop. Claire knows that it won't. But it's alright. They can hurt together.
Relationships: Claire & Marie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	'Cause My Heart Can't Take a Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from In Your Eyes by The Weeknd, the song I listened to while writing. 
> 
> The ending is kinda sudden, but I feel there's nothing else to write. Enjoy.
> 
> WARNING: references of a past miscarriage are made close to the end.

The aching never stops.

Sometimes, it's dull. It feels like there are clouds in her head, keeping her on her feet, keeping her moving despite her entire body weighing her down like a sack of rocks. When it's dull she can putter around, ignoring pretty much everything for the sake of concentrating on lifting her knees high enough to walk. There isn't much else going on in her head during those times. There's throbbing behind her eyes like something is trying to break out, but it never does, so it stays there until she's sleeping deeply enough for it to stop.

Other days, everything feels sharp. Jagged. It digs in and tears at her. It hurts so much that she barely moves. She'll distance herself a little bit so she can grimace without people looking at her. She's always preferred company, but when she's like this she doesn't want the others to see her, she doesn't want to bring down the mood. Doesn't want them to fret over her. And she'll admit; when everything in her is jabbing into her guts and her brain it's hard to keep it inside. People are well intentioned. It's just that everything  _ hurts  _ and she wants to make it  _ stop. _

It makes her understand very clearly why Rosalie lashed out. She hurt, too. A lot. Marie knows better than anyone. But she never  _ lived _ that kind of scared anger. 

Now she is. 

The others in the group are grieving, too, obviously. Oscar completely shut down; Raksha was the one to catch Catharine whose legs gave out under her. Azi clung to her older brother and Lupo remained functional if only because of his disbelief. Jackson wept bitterly, holding her face in her hands. Marie heard her say: "I could've done something. I could've saved her." 

And Olga croaks, "No. You couldn't have." Because Jackson had her arms full with the children they were rescuing, and Margeurite  _ literally _ had her hands full holding them all up. 

Everyone blames themselves in some capacity. Marie doesn't know if there is anyone at fault. She's too caught up with how  _ empty _ she feels. Like someone opened her up and ripped something out. Marie doesn't know if anyone can understand what that's like. Except-

"When I lost my baby," Claire starts, quietly. It's the middle of the night and Marie can't sleep, as usual. "The presence I had with me for all those months was just… gone. I felt so lonely." Claire shifts to look at Marie. Her eyes are so sad, sympathetic. Marie lets herself stare into them, blinking slowly. Her eyes feel so sore and dry. 

"I always remember them, how it felt to carry another life with me… and there are also times when I feel so alone, and how wrong it feels to not have them with me."

"Does it ever stop?" Marie whispers. Claire looks at her,  _ into _ her, and Marie can pretty much hear her putting the right words together in her brain. 

"It doesn't stop," Claire admits, "I'll never stop missing them. But it gets easier to remember the good times. A happy memory can carry me through the emptiness, even if I end up crying." 

Marie says nothing. She just reaches out and takes Claire's fingers, looking down at the space between their bedding. Her eyes close when Claire's shoulder presses into her nose. Marie presses in closer, curling up small as Claire pulls the furs and blankets up until Marie is hidden except for the top of her head. Marie remembers when she did the same for Claire, months and months ago. Remembers when it was her shielding the mourning girl from the rest of the world when she was at her most vulnerable. 

The aching never stops. Claire understands because she aches, too.


End file.
